Reflections
by dragonfirechick
Summary: A teacher at Hogwarts reflects on a boy she once had a crush on. Unusual pairing, please read and review! One-shot. Probably AU.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything, and it would be useless to sue me because at this moment in time I have exactly three dollars in quarters. Well, I guess I do own the pairing. Hehehe, that is all mine! Don't steal!  
  
Hey everyone! I was trying to think of an unusual pairing, and this was the first one that popped into my head. This story will be a one-shot, I think. I'll tell you the pairing at the end, but I would really like it if you tried to figure it out on your own. Let me know if you like this fic, and please tell me if you've read this pairing before.  
  
Warning: This is my first attempt at angst. This might sound funny, but I hope that this story makes you cry. I cried as I wrote it.

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He was simply the most marvelous person I could ever have imagined. I was in my first year, he was in his fifth. I think it was still in the first week of school. I had gotten hopelessly lost and ended up somewhere I really didn't want to be. It was dark and cold, and to this day I don't know where I was. Somewhere in the dungeons, I think. I was crying. Then he found me. He picked me up, stroked my hair, called me "Minnie," and carried me back up into the warmth and light. From that moment on, he was my hero.  
  
He was a Prefect. To me, he seemed irrestistably and impossibly cute. His jet black hair was always tidy, and he was so tall. He was a model student, and I thought that if anyone really deserved a Prefect's badge, it would be him. I figured out his schedule and managed to walk past him at least twice a day.  
  
I knew that I would never have a chance with him, that he would never look twice at a timid little first year girl, at least, not in the way I wanted him to, but that didn't stop me from imagining scenes in which he was the hero and risked life and limb to save me, the heroine. But everything about him just attracted me more. His black hair, his tragic past, his kindness, and his compassion.  
  
In my second year, there was a series of attacks on the school. We were all terrified. He put a stop to them, and my hero worship of him increased. I would make time to visit the Trophy Room at least once a week to stare at the shield with his name on it. I would stare at him dreamily across the Great Hall during meals. The scenes in my head had changed, developed into something much more romantic and full of angst. They now featured the two of us, hopelessly in love, but unable to marry because of the differences between us. He would proclaim his undying love for me and try to embrace me tenderly, but I would dramatically push him away and cry out that it was impossible, for he was a Slytherin and I was a Gryffindor, and our Houses would never understand. These scenes vaguely resembled Romeo and Juliet. They always ended with both of us dead, and our Houses bitterly regretting the loss of two such tender young lovers, and wishing that they had come to their senses sooner. It was foolish, but that was the kind of person I was.  
  
In my third year, he was Head Boy. I was ecstatic. The Headmaster, Professor Dippet, had realized what a wonderful person he was. I sent him an anonymous letter congratulating him on becoming Head Boy, but I think he knew it was me because he winked at me the next day in the hall. I could have died for happiness. He knew of my existance. Several of my friends had crushes on older boys, but the boys didn't seem to know they existed. I was firmly convinced that my obsession with him wasn't a crush, it was love.  
  
In the middle of my third year, the Tranfiguration teacher, Professor Dumbledore, called me into his office. He warned me that the object of my fantasies might not be what I expected. I laughed and shrugged it off. I trusted Professor Dumbledore, but I couldn't believe anything bad about my beloved. Besides, it was rather well known that Professor Dumbledore didn't really approve of him. Or didn't completely trust him. Or something.  
  
Thirty-six years passed. Professor Dumbledore had become Headmaster of Hogwarts after Professor Dippet passed away one night in his sleep. Dumbledore had appointed me to the position of Transfiguration teacher and Deputy Headmistress. I was now on first name terms with Dumbledore. That took a lot of getting used to. I couldn't have been prouder of my new position. I became an Animagus. I chose a cat for my animal form. I had always felt a peculiar affinity for cats.  
  
Suddenly, a war broke out. We tried to hide it from the Muggles as best we could, but it didn't work. Professor Dumbledore started a group called the Order of the Pheonix to fight the newly self-styled Dark Lord. Many people joined to combat the forces of darkness. Then came our first face-to-face confrontation with the Dark Lord and his followers, people called Death Eaters. I stood beside Dumbledore as we faced off. Then the Dark Lord removed his mask, and I was too shocked to move for a moment. It was him, the person I had had a crush on for my first four years at Hogwarts, the one Dumbledore had warned me against. In that first battle, we beat him back. After returning to Hogwarts, I went into my office, locked the door, and cried and slept on and off for two entire days. Dumbledore respected my privacy, and taught my classes himself while I recovered from the shock of seeing my once-beloved as a force of evil. I emerged from my office with my hair tightly wound up at the back at my head, my lips tight and eyes cold. I had vowed never to show any feeling that wasn't strictly platonic for another human being ever again, a vow that I have faithfully held to this day.  
  
Two of my best students had recently started a family, and they were worried for the safety of their unborn child. They had defied the He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named three times already. Dumbledore advised them to use a Fidelis Charm to protect themselves, and offered to become their Secret Keeper himself. They refused in favor of one of their best friends. I felt in my heart that it was a bad idea, but I didn't interfere.  
  
Their baby was born, a beautiful baby boy. They named the same person they had chosen as their Secret Keeper as the baby's godfather. Less than a year later, they were murdered by You-Know-Who. Their son survived somehow. One of their other friends openly confronted the chosen Secret Keeper and godfather, and was blown apart for his troubles, as well as twelve Muggles standing nearby. He was awarded Order of Merlin, First Class, post- humously, and we all mourned him. The one day he had shown any backbone, he had been killed for it. The Secret Keeper and godfather only laughed as they dragged him away to Azkaban.  
  
A day has not passed that I have not mourned the fate of my once-beloved. He chose to follow a different path than the one I had chosen, and his path led to the suffering and death of many people. His path caused me a great deal of pain. Also, a day has not passed that I have not rejoiced that I did not follow him on the same path. If I were given the choice to go back and change the way things had happened, I wouldn't do it. Everyone must make their own choices, and if I had tried to change his path, I might only have altered mine beyond redeeming, and caused great suffering to others, myself.  
  
I regret the loss of the person I thought I knew, the boy who rescued me from the dark. That boy is gone, and I can only be glad that I have not followed him.  
  
_Finis Litterae_

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Anyone who hasn't done this already, please read Pisces411 fic called Secrets in the Shadows. It's one of my favorites, and it's really good, and it deserves more reviews than it has.

Thanks for reading my first attempt at angst!


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